


all resolve might break

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Barebacking, Clothed Sex, Creampie, Feral Behavior, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Injuries, Rescue Missions, Rough Sex, messy kylo fucking clean hux basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 03:04:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18490021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Once again, Hux has to sweep in and rescue his rival from harm. But after fighting for his life for days on an untamed planet, Ren is injured, filthy—and in desperate need of human contact.





	all resolve might break

**Author's Note:**

> I loved all the talk of messy, dirty Kylo fucking Hux in the aftermath of Friday's teaser! I just had to write it. I love feral, brutal, desperate Kylo a lot, and thankfully so does Hux.

When Hux initially heard word that Ren’s fighter had been downed on an uncharted planet, he wasn't all that concerned. After all, it wasn't the first time he’d had to send rescue after the errant apprentice, and Hux was certain it wouldn't be the last. With such an unpredictable variable as Ren in play, he’d learned to employ plenty of failsafes and backup plans.

But even the tracker he placed on Ren’s belt can’t account for all interfering factors. And when Hux first guided a shuttle towards the surface of the planet to scout for his wayward co-commander, he didn’t expect to find the entire lower atmosphere consumed in a violent storm. The kind that might disrupt a proper landing and cause the entire ship to trash, no doubt killing everybody aboard and scattering their bodies across the planet’s vast forests—himself included.

Hux tried to establish contact with Ren as they retreated and waited for the storm to die down, but nothing ever came through the line to assuage his fears. Anxiety wound through him, refusing to relax until one of the pilots _finally_ informed him that the winds had weakened enough for them to again attempt landing. Hux now stands on the shuttle’s main deck, resisting the urge to worry his lip and show the depths of his concern off to the crew.

Ren had been on that planet for _days_ as Hux orbited helplessly, unable to get to him. Now that he’s finally zeroing in on his location, he wonders what he might find.

If there’s anything at all left.

Hux tries to push such pessimistic thoughts from his brain as the shuttle skims over the tops of the trees, taking advantage of the break in the storm. Dark, purplish clouds hover ominously through the viewport, reminding Hux that they have a small window of time to recover Ren and ascend back into the upper atmosphere.

The tracker flashes on Hux’s datapad as he tracks the relative distance between it and the shuttle, which begins to descend properly as the pilots look for a safe place to land. They find one in a particularly large clearing in between the dark trees, and Hux quickly makes his way to the underside of the ship with a pair of troopers.

The gangplank whirs as the shuttle lands, opening out onto the tumultuous world outside. Hux lifts a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden burst of air that sends the hem of his greatcoat fluttering. The lights on the underside of the shuttle illuminate the wet ground immediately, but the radius is limited. Hux squints, trying to make out shapes in the world outside the vessel. The blip on the datapad suddenly starts to close the distance remaining between it and the ship, and his hope grows.

Eventually something large and ragged shambles out of the darkness, and at first Hux twitches in alarm before his heart leaps in his chest. He recognizes the shaggy hair and broad shoulders even in silhouette, even with the cloak that usually drifts like a long, intimidating shadow tattered and dirtied at the edges. The sounds of footsteps echo across the clearing, audible even with the whistling of the wind and the noises made by the shuttle.

“Get him inside. Quickly,” Hux orders to the pair of troopers behind him as Ren falters slightly in his path towards the shuttle. They charge down the gangplank towards Ren, misty rain glistening on their white helmets. One tucks his blaster away and stands to the side, hands hovering like he’s not sure where to put them first. The other has no such hesitation, and grabs Ren by the shoulder.

The reaction is instantaneous—Ren flinches away, throwing out his hands and violently tossing both troopers against the landing gear of the shuttle, their heads snapping back against the machinery. Ren pays them no mind as their bodies fall back against the mud, pace now not faltering at all.

Hux watches, lips parted slightly, a reprimand lingering on his tongue as Ren stomps up the gangplank towards him. It’s been awhile since he’s witnessed him senselessly killing his troops, and while he has no personal attachment to his men it’s wholly _unnecessary_.

But Hux keeps quiet, primarily due to the fact that, as Ren gradually comes into the sterile light drifting from the interior of the shuttle, it becomes obvious just how much his sojourn in the wilderness has taken a toll on him.

His tunic is ripped at the edges and across the torso, fabric stained and sprayed with fluid Hux can’t identify at this distance. His face looks to be in a similar state, dabbed in grime and splattered with bright red that _certainly_ has to be blood, even if its not Ren’s blood. His hair hangs shabbily about his face, part stuck to his cheeks with sweat and part blown about in the wind. He looks wild and haggard, and yet his strides are still strong, driving him up the ramp towards Hux.

“Ren. Have you sustained injuries?” He asks, pushing path the deaths of his troopers, hoping to get a reaction or explanation out of his co-commander. But Ren just continues to stalk up the gangplank without recognition of what Hux is saying to him, even as his eyes fix unyielding upon the general.

Hux takes a step back once Ren reaches the top and enters into the shuttle proper. His mouth has suddenly gone dry, spine tingling with worry. Now in stark lighting, Ren looks completely out of place. There’s definitely blood on not only his face, but also his clothes and hair, matted in between the grime and grit accrued over his time in the forest and sharply contrasting with his cold, pale skin. Surely he’s injured, but Hux can’t bring himself to ask again. There’s something powerful in Ren’s gaze, in his presence, that’s making him freeze up. As if the man has lived a thousand years out there on the planet, in the span of only a few days.

Hux can’t repress a flinch as Ren raises his hand, half-thinking he’s going to break him in just as he did the troopers, any rational thought now abandoned thanks to his trials, but Hux feels no invisible strength close about his throat or heft his body into the air when Ren twists his fingers. Behind him sounds sharp, creaking metal, and Hux dares to look over his shoulder to see the sliding door leading to the rest of the shuttle forced closed.  

Now, with the gangplank automatically reeling back into the belly of the shuttle, it’s just him and Ren. Hux takes another step back, though he knows there’s no place to run. No means to escape the man before him, trembling with barely contained energy, a dark, feral look in his eyes.

“R-Ren, listen to me,” Hux says, finally recovering his voice, “let the medics tend to your injuries, so that we may return to the Order as soon as possible.”

He can see more blood now, stuck to Ren’s tunic, soaking through and glistening underneath the lights. But he doesn’t pay them any mind and again walks towards the general, closing the remaining gap between them in a second.

Hux gasps as his back slams against the wall of the shuttle, breath startled out of him. Again he expects the hands of the Force to close around him, or maybe the glowing tip of a saber at his throat, but Ren only pins him by the shoulders and presses close. His breathing is weighty and hoarse, as if his entire soul is heaving out of him only to be possessively sucked back into his lungs once it’s about to escape. This close Hux can see his eyes are bloodshot and shadowed in lack of sleep, his lips chapped and bloodied in places from where Ren must have chewed the flesh. The entire air about him is untamed, any civility he had stripped away, left to rot upon the surface of the planet.

One hand remains clenched on Hux’s shoulder, but as Ren’s eyes drift the other starts following his gaze, rubbing down the front of the general’s uniform. His gloves are as ragged and filthy as the rest of his person, and Hux flinches at the fingerprints of grime and dark blood he leaves on the fabric of his uniform. He clears his throat in mortification as Ren grasps his hip and presses closer, breathing heavily against his face.

Hux wrinkles his nose. Ren smells _terrible_ , though perhaps that’s what he should’ve expected from a man who’s been traipsing about in the wild, wind-tossed wilderness for days. And he’s so close that it’s impossible to stop the odor from invading his nose, flooding Hux’s sense with all the mud and blood and violent fauna his co-commander has survived for the past few days. Yet permeating through all the environmental factors is the pure smell of _Ren_ , the salty and murky scent of unwashed flesh and hair that should leave Hux feeling entirely disgusted—and he _is_ disgusted, isn’t he? By this filthy, feral Force-user who’s cornered him, already soiling his uniform and refusing medical treatment he sorely needs.

“ _Hux_ ,” Ren rasps, like leaves clattering in the wind outside, the first noise other than grunts and heavy breathing he’s made since boarding the shuttle. Presumably in _days_ , as Ren isn’t particularly loquacious in the best of times and likely wouldn’t have cared to speak when he was so focused on survival. His first words since becoming stranded on this stormy planet, and they’re directed at _Hux_.

As is the bulge in his pants, obvious now as Ren pushes up against him, leaving no space between them; the immaculate general and this wild, stained warrior.

“You—what’s the meaning of this?” Hux stammers as Ren grinds his groin viciously against his own, smearing the filth clinging to his tunic all over his uniform. The uniform Hux keeps lovingly pressed and hung in his wardrobe whenever he’s not wearing it. Sure, he has several of them, all kept in similar condition, but that doesn’t make the loss of _this_ one any less galling. And all because Ren—dirty, bloodied, sweat-stained Ren—is _randy_.

Hux moans, his hands hesitantly bracing against Ren’s shoulder, loathe to also ruin his beloved gloves with the filth but unsure what else to do. Not that it helps—his paltry strength can’t hold up the wild, aroused might of Kylo Ren, and the awakened need in his belly makes him unwilling to shove him away. He hates himself a bit for allowing this, conceding to Ren’s mindless desperation, but some part of it _entices_ him. Ren has always been wild and slightly unhinged, but now it’s Hux who bears the brunt of it.

He can’t suppress a yelp as Ren suddenly _bites_ him on the cheek, teeth digging sharply into him. Pain sparks through him as his canines break through his skin, no doubt leaving a mark he’ll struggle to hide from his men, but Hux can’t imagine Ren cares about appearances when he’s like this. With his mind banished, he won’t mind how debauched either of them look by the end.

This Ren—maddened at his isolation, _desperate_ for human contact—is tearing down the last walls remaining between them.

Hux nips his swollen lip, tears of arousal wobbling in his eyes as Ren practically lifts his booted toes off the ground with the power of his grinding thrusts. He’s bitten him more, leaving reddened bruises along his jawline and down to his throat. Hux tries to suppress his cries, conscious of the crew who must be investigating what’s taking the general so long to recover their target, but with his own cock hardening desperately in his jodhpurs and Ren clawing at Hux and his own pants with such unabashed need, he can’t help it.

Ren’s cock is surely as unwashed as the rest of him, yet as Hux looks down to see it hanging heavy and swollen-red out of the sullied black swath of his clothes like a beacon in the wild night he still finds himself salivating. Despite himself, he _wants_ that inside him, wants to feel Ren’s terrible indecency spread through his insides.

Ren doesn’t have any patience left to properly take off the general’s pants now that he’s freed his own cock, however. Instead he claws Hux between the legs, unkempt nails scratching at the crotch of his uniform pants. Hux yelps as one finger finds a weakness in the stitching and pushes through, ripping a hole in the seam. His cheeks somehow flush deeper as Ren completely breaches the material of his uniform, not content with solely defiling it from the outside.

Ren tears the hole wider before withdrawing his fingers, apparently sage enough to slick them in the warmth of Hux’s mouth. He cringes at the foul taste, promptly laving his tongue over the digits so Ren will withdraw them faster. When he does, he wastes no time pushing them back through the rip in Hux’s pants, and into his tight hole.

He keens weakly, clenching around Ren’s fingers as they scissor roughly, impatience coming across in spades. He doesn’t linger, pulling his hand away just as the ache has started to ease inside him.

Ren’s nails dig into the fabric of his uniform pants as he roughly wrenches one of Hux’s thigh up and over his hip and rubs his bared cock against his groin, relishing in the friction even as the tip of it seeks the opening, the chance to thoroughly _ruin_ Hux.

And Hux wants it.

“Oh stars, _Ren_ —” He groans as the man’s cock finally pops through the violent tear in his uniform pants, quickly driving its full length within him. Hux wraps his arms tight about Ren’s neck, one hand curling into the greasy tresses of his hair as it falls limply about his shoulders.

Thanks to the rushed prep there’s little slicking Ren’s cock as it pushes inside of Hux, stretching him out and leaving him gasping at the rough sensation. His own cock briefly flags as pain strikes up his spine, but the feeling of fullness inside him, the brunt of Ren’s mindless ferocity, brings his arousal rushing back. His moans dissolve into one another as the man starts pistoning his hips, driving Hux into the wall behind him.

Ren claims his lips, biting and leaving them reddened and swollen. One of the scabs on his mouth cracks from his own intensity, the taste of his blood rubbing onto Hux’s tongue as they kiss. He twists his fingers tighter into Ren’s hair, probably enough to hurt, but he doesn’t even notice.

Before long Hux feels almost numb beneath the waist from the combination of Ren’s savage thrusting and his own building arousal. His hair has fallen from its usual style, fanning wisps of ginger hair over his forehead. A thin strand of drool trails down Hux’s lips, when they part the kiss, mind growing incoherent in the pleasure. He can’t help himself. Ren’s scent wraps around him like a dark, damp cloth, all humid and musky and _strong_.

Hux feels it, _profoundly_ , when Ren comes inside of him, and not just because of the forceful way his cock twitches when he does. As he tightens around the girth working him open Hux feels a warm gush within him, rippling against his insides and filling him up. He shivers as his own cock weakly jerks in response, painting the hem of his tunic as Ren sloppily comes in his ass until he can’t take anymore and it starts to drip back out of his hole, highlighting just how thoroughly Hux’s been defiled by Ren’s untamed lust. His eyelids flutter half-closed, enjoying the sensation despite himself.

Hux cringes when Ren pulls his now-flaccid cock out of him, come draining out of his weakened hold now that the plug holding it inside has been removed. Even so he mourns the loss of the pressure and warmth, shivering as he feels it drip through the ragged hole in his pants. _Stars_ , how will he face his crew after this? There will be no way to hide what Ren’s done to him, how badly he’s been ravaged.

Ren pants before him, leaning in to rest their foreheads together. A little more sapience sparks in his deep eyes as he lifts one hand, brushing leatheris-clad fingertips against Hux’s cheek. The general flinches as Ren touches the tender flesh of the bite mark, before softly cupping it. No doubt spreading more grime over Hux’s skin, but what does it matter now, when he’s been so sullied inside and out.

“I...I believe we both need a wash, as soon as possible,” Hux groans, knowing he’s soiled not only with Ren’s filth, but his own come and sweat, “and you really _must_ let the medic look at you.” The brightened, steadily spreading stains on his tunic doesn’t escape the general’s notice, no matter how well-fucked he is.

Ren grunts, and Hux can’t determine whether it’s an assent or not. Though even with his speech yet returned to him, he feels a little more pliable, less threaded with restless, primal energy.

Perhaps after Ren has the filth properly cleaned from his body, he’ll be a little more willing to tell of his time on the planet. Or perhaps he’ll shut himself off again, to the point where Ren won’t even bother to address the new territory opened up between them, now that they’ve shared such a raw moment together.

Either way. Hux is grateful to have him back.

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked writing this! Hope you enjoyed too. Let me know if you want more standalone kinky stuff like this, or something else!
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


End file.
